


We All Scream for Ice Cream

by Anonymous



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Richie and Eddie, BDSM, Bratty sub Richie, Dom Eddie, F/F, Mild Degradation/Humiliation, Nipple Clamps, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Snark, Spanking, femreddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Richie looks down at her top and then back at Eddie. "Do you think it's obvious I'm not wearing a bra?"Eddie gives her a cursory glance. She's wearing a grey tee and leggings. "Not unless you start running. Since when did you give a shit?"Richie sighs. "So, you're fine with me going out like this, then?"Oh, that's what they're playing.Eddie doesn't look up from her laptop. "You can do whatever you want," she says evenly. "As long as you're prepared for the consequences."
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 112
Collections: Anonymous





	We All Scream for Ice Cream

Eddie sees Richie step past the doorframe, in her peripheral vision.

"So. I'm thinking of doing the shopping."

Eddie doesn't look up from her laptop. "Ok."

Richie looks down at her top and then back at Eddie. "Do you think it's obvious I'm not wearing a bra?"

Eddie gives her a cursory glance. She's wearing a grey tee and leggings. "Not unless you start running. Since when did you give a shit?"

Richie sighs. "So, you're fine with me going out like this, then?"

_Oh, that's what they're playing._

Eddie doesn't look up from her laptop. "You can do whatever you want," she says evenly. "As long as you're prepared for the consequences."

She tries not to smile at the hiss of breath she hears from Richie.

"...What consequences?"

"I don't know," Eddie says, now typing letters at random, listening for changes in breathing. "I could get you all wet and make you wait. I could dig out the vibe. Or the clamps."

She listens to Richie's tight little controlled breaths and looks her up and down. "Go to our room. Get rid off that ratty top. Wait there. Don't touch anything else."

"You know," Richie says, "usually consequences come _after_."

"It's _after_ you wasted my time, trying to get away with dressing like a slut. _Go._ "

Richie goes.

Eddie presses the heel of her palm to her jeans, and follows

When Eddie gets to the bedroom, Richie's sitting up on the bed, hugging her knees. 

"Knees down," Eddie orders. Richie obeys, but before Eddie can get a proper look at her tits, her eyes catch on a grey shirt sitting on the carpet. _Brat._

She picks it up with one finger. "What the hell is this?"

"...My shirt?" Richie says with a smile.

"I thought it was a rug, since it was _sitting on the fucking ground_."

Richie smiles wider.

Eddie searches in the drawers, pulls out the clamps with a gold chain between them, and throws them at Richie. "Put these on."

Richie does, trying to keep her face expressionless.

"Pull on the chain."

Richie tugs lightly, trying to cover her flinching.

"Richie. If you don't pull _hard_ , I'm gonna make you do this all day."

Richie tugs harder this time. She whines, hips rolling like she's trying to drag her clit against the mattress.

"Good. Again." Eddie makes her do it 5 times, watching her nipples stand up as the flush spreads to her areolas.

The she kneels next to Richie, clutching her thighs together, and takes off the clamps. Richie breathes out in a hiss.

She tsks. "No way you could skip the underwear now. You're so red and swollen. It'd be obvious you're braless from a mile away."

Richie's head lolls back as Eddie just nudges one of the swollen nubs with her thumb. She doesn't know if it's from the touch, or the thought of her tits, obvious through her shirt.

Eddie makes herself get up and head to the chest of drawers before she can get distracted. She has to go offline, a little. Else she'd be three fingers deep by now.

"Put this on," she says, throwing one of her own forest-green bras at Richie, one that's gonna be a little too tight. 

Richie does, hazily. Eddie notices her flinch, slightly, as she puts on the bra. Her breasts spill over the top of the cups.

"Are you sore?"

Richie shakes her head.

"Oh?" Eddie kneels next to her again, pulling down on of the cups so she can pinch the nipple.

Richie jolts, closing her eyes. 

"I can do this all day, then?"

Richie makes a plaintive noise, opening her eyes in a glare. "Ok," she says. "Ok, fine. It feels like my tits have freezerburn. Happy?"

"Very." She hands Richie the grey shirt, which she puts on.

She looks through her drawers for a skirt that's gonna fit Richie, and tosses over a black business skirt. "Wear this. You're leaking."

Richie gets changed, looks at herself in the mirror adjacent to the bed, and snorts. "I look like you."

"Trust me, it's an improvement."

Richie huffs another laugh, and they smile at each other for a moment.

"Ok. You can go shopping now." Eddie says.

Richie's smile fades. "Are you kidding?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Richie walks out, muttering something about _fucking surburbanite kinksters_ under her breath.

She does the shopping, zombified. 

Leans against the counter as she's checking out, for a little relief against her clit, imagining it's Eddie's hand, or her mouth, _God-_

When she gets home, Eddie is lying on the couch, hand in her pants. Eyes closed, head thrown back, perfect pink lips a little open.

Richie stands there and stares, plastic bags hanging from her hands.

"Hey baby," Eddie says, opening her eyes with a lazy contentedness. "You wanna put those away?"

Richie doesn't move.

Eddie looks at her, unimpressed, and takes her hand out of her pants.

"You are by far, the worst roommate I've ever had," Eddie says, getting up. She plucks the bags from Richie's hands and puts them on the counter.

And then Richie's being bent over the arm of the couch, skirt pushed up as a hand slaps across her thighs and ass.

It's not a fear thing, and it's not exactly a pain thing either. It's just anticipation, intensified. She's heard people do the same with popping balloons. They haven't tried that. _For obvious reasons._

"Seriously?" Eddie asks plaintively, after a couple of minutes. Richie comes back to reality long enough to realise that she's been grinding against the arm of the couch every time Eddie's hand _thwacks_.

"Humping the furniture like a miniature fucking Schnauzer? Really? Come on, Richie. I wanna fuck you, but you gotta give me _something._ "

"I bought us ice cream," Richie says weakly from the couch. "That counts as good behaviour, right?"

Eddie pauses, and sighs. "Fine. Get undressed and sit on the bed. I've got to pack up."

When Eddie walks in, she's in her purple bra and underwear, holding the half-pint of ice cream, which- _ok then?_

She puts the half-pint on the bedside table, and grabs a scarf from the lampshade, because, it turns out, Eddie is the scarves-on-lampshades type of Pinterest girl.

She ties together Richie's hands. Richie wiggles a little, just to feel the restriction, then watches Eddie pick up the half-pint.

"Do you know what happens when you leave ice cream out, Richie?"

"Ok," Richie says, getting a sense of where this is going. "See-"

"It's no longer ice cream, I can tell you that," Eddie says, as she pours the chocolatey syrup down Richie's clavicle.

It's still cold, though, and Richie's hairs stand on end wherever the path goes. She shivers when it overflows her bellybutton and trickles down.

"I'm gonna clean you up," Eddie says, "and you're gonna stay quiet. You wanna prove you can manage this _one thing?"_

Richie opens her mouth, then closes it, and nods.

Eddie tongues up her clavicle, then drags her tongue over a swollen nipple, the cold somewhere between pain and relief.

Richie twists her neck, burrowing her face into the pillow so she doesn't make a sound.

Eddie hums, and laps up from her bellybutton, then down to where the ice cream is dripping into her hair.

"Good job, baby," she says, untying the scarf. "Make as much as noise as you want." 

"Best use of chocolate ice cream since Freshman-" Eddie immediately puts a hand over her mouth. "I take it back."

"Mfbmb." says Richie. Eddie smiles, and moves down the bed, pressing kisses to Richie's thighs.

"Uh-uh," Richie says, "get up here, I wanna kiss you."

"Oh, well, if you _don't_ wanna get eaten out, then by all means-"

"You can just finger me!" Richie argues, pulling Eddie up into a kiss. She wants to feel Eddie on top of her

Eddie acquiesces, biting at her bottom lip and running a finger over her clit.

Now that she can touch, Richie holds her tight, scratching her back when Eddie circles a finger around her hole.

Eddie nuzzles into her neck as she sinks a finger into her, wet enough that the slide is easy, and follows it with a second.

Richie groans, and holds her tighter.

"Dude." Eddie says, as she's pulled stomach-to-stomach with Richie. "I don't have a lot of torque from here."

Richie sighs, and loosens her arms almost imperceptibly.

Eddie shifts so she can twist her fingers in and out, and-

"Yeah." Richie says. "There. Theretherethere-"

"I _got it_ ," says Eddie, picking up the pace.

"Love you, fuck, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie-"

Eddie kisses her, swiping her tongue past her lips and Richie comes, scrunching her eyes shut with a groan as the world goes bright behind them and her mind blanks for a good minute and a half.

When she opens her eyes, Eddie is kneeling next to her, one hand in her underwear, and the other resting on Richie's thigh, eyes closed and her mouth just slightly open.

"Hey," Richie says, sitting up. "I can-"

"It's ok," Eddie says. "I'm almost..." she trails off, and a minute later, takes her hand out, looking frustrated.

It happens to Eddie a lot.

"Hey," Richie says. "It's ok." She pulls Eddie into a soft kiss. It's the first time she's been focussed enough to realise Eddie smells like geraniums. Richie probably smells of sweat and sex. "You want me to have a go?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "You're not tired?"

"You spent like, an hour indulging all my weird kinks," Richie says. "I think I can spare an orgasm or two." She sticks a tongue between her spread fingers and raises an eyebrow in question.

"Ugh," says Eddie, but she lays back on the bed.

"You're so hot," Richie says, as she nips at Eddie's thighs. "And ingenious. That back there was like, a Saw trap of kinkiness."

"That's your worst metaphor yet," Eddie says, as she twists her hand into Richie's curls. 

"You're the Rube Goldberg of fucking?"

"Marginally better."

Eddie doesn't want anything inside her, but, Richie has learnt, she really likes it when Richie's tongue just drags over her hole, _and, sure enough, she's making a little gasping sound._

Richie hums happily, and goes back to lapping at her clit.

"Ur s'pose 'cite thalphabe, righ?"

"Oh my God," Eddie says, with a reluctant smile. "You're supposed to write it, but I'm not surprised you can't do that without-ah." Richie watches her back arch off the bed. 

Another thing that Richie has learnt, is that Eddie has a better chance of coming if she can just _relax._

"Ithinkithworkintho?"

"I hate you," says Eddie, hips jerking up rhythmically.

"Mm," Richie agrees, sealing her mouth over Eddie's clit, and sucking.

Eddie makes this broken moan of a sound that Richie really wishes she was recording, and then she's pushing at Richie's shoulders, hips bucking up, _unghfuckRichie,_ and slamming her legs together.

Richie smiles, laying next to her and moving her hair out of her face.

"Did you come?" she asks innocently, when Eddie opens her eyes.

" _Fuck_ you," says Eddie, pulling her into a kiss, and biting at her bottom lip.


End file.
